Beauty and the - Beast?
by Catharina Joelle
Summary: And again she will do whatever possible to fight for...well, whatever is left for her. - A story about Éponine, heartbroken after Marius falling for Cosette. Okay I suck at summaries, please read anyway! :) - E/E M/C *Chapter 3 up!*
1. I Le Rêve Cassé

**AN:**

**About the Story: Another tryout for an Enjonine-Story for Les Mis. I'll try to update regularly, but I have to say, my muse is a fractious one. Anyways, this story will have both influences from the musical and the novel, so you can expect to find a colourful mixture of all. :) And don't be scared, my first chapters are always the longest ones, the next ones will be slightly shorter.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor Les Misérables, it belongs to Victor Hugo.**

**And in this chapter I copied a dialogue from the musical from the song 'The Robbery', so these lines belong to Claud-Michel Schönberg or whoever owns this musical (which is great, don't get me wrong!). There's one or two little changes, but in general...**

**Oh, and there are a few words in french in this chapter, I'll try to have little influences. :)**

**bleu = amateur**

**cogne = cops (slang)**

**Du balai! = Get lost! (pretty much...)**

**So, greets from Germany and ... leave me your opinion ;)**

**Catharina**

**I. Le Rêve Cassé - The broken Dream**

The day ended and the sky's colour changed from heavenly blue to sun kissed gold until it ended, wide away at the horizon, in deep lilac shades, when Éponine arrived at the Seine's bank. It had been a hot day in Paris and the air was heavy and thick, sticking to every face like a second skin. Even the smallest breeze was pregnant with the smell of too many people on to little space, mixing with the flavour of exotic goods rotting in the heat, the fetidness of horses and the cheap perfume odours coming from dressed up prostitutes. On the uneven plaster, waves of people flooded the streets, carriage's clatterings were accompanied by neighing and dog barking, the cursing of men and the chuckling of women. It was loud and stinky as Paris was simply France's metropolis both with its good and not so good sides.

But Éponine loved the spirit. It was so different in these rich quarters compared to the one she lived and strayed around during days. You wouldn't see old, sick people here, waiting for their death, no creepy creatures lingering around. Life seemed easy and imprudent, nobody was fighting for their daily bread. The blithe atmosphere caught upon her, too.

However she was relived to reach the small garden path and leave the crowd's ice cold looks. While she crawled through the private park, a clutch of birds passed above her and their screaming and whining sounded almost like a lullaby to Éponine. Only that now, in the late evening hours, it was the time when her life really began. When Paris' bourgeoisies climbed into their beds and there was nobody to steal from around, she could dream her own dreams – not her father's mercenary ones.

But the ones of Marius, her sweet, wonderful Marius, who had brought her so quickly into two complete strange worlds: The rich nation's world where giant mansions and costly food was seen every day – and then into the world of love. It had struck her like a lightning bolt when he had stopped her to have her deliver his mail. The feeling had been so different than any emotions she had ever experienced before. There had been neither hate nor antipathy in his hazel eyes as he had pressed a golden coin into her hand and thanked her honestly.

Such a difference to her relationship with Montparnasse, the handsome but yet poor street thief. Both Montparnasse and Éponine had known their relationship had only been for personal advantages; while he assured for himself her father's approval and a higher share of all booties, she had been, as long as in his present, safe against any creepers straying in Saint-Michel. But even this little feeling of security had vanished with Marius' entry into her life.

Éponine sat at the bank's edge, the river far below her. It was slow and dry these days, the hot temperatures had taken its wild drift which had already demanded many children's lives. But Éponine didn't care about the rivers height or the scary stories about it, she liked that place for different reasons. Cut off from the street's life she was hidden from any anxious looks.

Her legs dangling she sank into her thoughts of Marius.

Those were the same as always. Moments, when she would walk with the young student on the water's edge, hand in hand, their fingers entangled, and his heart would beat equally fast as hers always did. They would share careful kisses, almost like shy children. It wasn't the first time she imagined how different his lips would feel compared to Montparnasse's'. They would never be as urging and rough, but soft and caring, making true what his eyes promised. She sighed, stroking her lips and wishing again it was Marius' hand fondling her face.

Éponine was no fool, she was aware her day dreams were just exactly what they were – dreams. She was reminded every day, eventually, when Marius would send his ‚little Jondrette' to deliver his mail for a sou or two. She didn't like taking his money, but it made sure for her dinner and Marius was aware of that. She was glad her father didn't know anything about these secret earnings. With a family like the Thénadiers she had learned to be egoistic and only care for herself. She was sure, Marius' money in her father's hand would've turned into stories while she would go to bed hungry.

She hadn't earned anything today. Often these times – too often for Éponine's taste – Marius had already left in the afternoon for the centre of Paris where she didn't dare to follow. She was ashamed sometimes for spying on him but then the curiosity would grow so big she mostly forgot her bad coincidence. Her endless thirst for knowledge was the only thing valuable she owned. It had made Marius teach her writing and reading and she had learned the cleverest tricks her father knew about stealing.

Consistent with the gurgling Seine her stomach mumbled and kept tearing her from her daydreams. By now the sky had taken the colour of velvety black, stars coming out. Across the river lamps were lit in windows, throwing their golden light onto the wavy river. The last noises vanished, leaving Éponine only with an occasional bird scream alone.

But she relished the loneliness. It reminded her of Marius' absence but there was no one to spit or curse one her, no one to draw back when she came along the streets. At least in Saint-Michel she was known as Thénadier's brat – and where she was still nameless her bare feet, her torn gown and the thick layer of grime on her body revealed everything about her home. She felt more comfortable without the people's piercing looks.

Time flew by and when morning dawned she stood up and lay down at a front door.

It was a maid to find her and Éponine was probably not the only one to be woken up by her scream. The tiredness of only little sleep dropped off her when she started her way home. It was still early morning, the city woke lazy. Only few people were wandering around.

Éponine chose the smaller alleys anyway. The hunger had grown and she was having a hard resisting even the slightest temptation of sticking her scrawny fingers into a stranger's pockets. It was too obvious, such frivolity wasn't worth the trouble with the cops.

Arriving home she saw she could've taken more time for the way back. In the shallow barrack, hardly be called ‚house' her family was sleeping placid. Her sister Azelma, peacefully and sweet, but such a beast when awake, her mother buried under grey but still thick hair and lastly her father, around him mist with the burning smell of alcohol.

Thénadier wasn't a man of stupidity, he was gifted with high intelligence and extraordinary astuteness but drinking made him often lose all constraints so that he would spend money his family didn't have.

Undetermined she stood in the portal. It was too early to go looking for Marius in his apartment, especially after long nights he liked to sleep until midday.

Finally, she laid down on her little ‚bed', consisting only of a few rags and towels trying to catch up on a little sleep. She hated being in the small barrack and it took a while until her eyes closed.

„Wake up, useless brat!" A kick in her ribs woke Éponine more painful than soft. Instinctively she inflected; she felt the next foot in her back. Hastily she got up and backed off, trying to bring as much space between her and her father as possible in the little room.

When her father noticed last night's alcohol he was often even more brutal and aggressive than she was used to- She knew the only sensible solution was avoiding him but he had that suspicious glance in his face, promising a robbery.

„You want to eat somethin' – follow me", he snarled and exited the barrack with quick steps. Éponine drew back when he rushed past her. A wave with the scent of sweat and dirt rolled over her and even though she was sure her own odour wasn't better she wrinkled her nose. She followed him quickly.

At _Place du Cavalerie_ she stopped to throw herself water in her face. Similar to an infective disease the maids and women backed away when she came by, leaving the way to the well free. She passed the queue and shovelled cool water into her face. It was only shortly before midday but even now the sun shone with all its power and heated up the narrow alleys.

„Éponine!" Her father's cry made her wince and start running, he was already a few streets away. His eyebrows formed a straight lining, framing the angry eyes as he spat out. With the three ladies again he hurried on.

They met the gang at the market, where booth after booth offered fresh goods. The scent of warm bread and juicy apples made her stomach cringe and she turned away. In the past years of poverty she had learned to get along with the torn clothing and comfortless accommodation but the painful hunger was something she would never get used to. The _Patron-Minette_ was made up of four men, Montparnasse, Claquesous, Babet and Gueulemer, all of them definitely slightly yet their wallets were empty and their tempers fervid. „Hope you've got a good reason for ordering us at this time, Thénadier", snarled Montparnasse but his eyes were fixed on Éponine behind him. His looks were undressing her.

„I do, 'Parnasse", replied Thénadier in the same mood he always had in the _Patron-Minette's_ present. The four were maybe working for Éponine's father yet they refused to include him in their sacred gang – he had a family to care for. It was a great offence to Thénadier and he let them feel it.

Montparnasse adjusted his hat which never stayed the way it was supposed to be upon his mane of blonde locks. „I guess you're cheating again, aren't you, _mon ami_?"

Thénadier laughed roughly. „"You ain't having a plan 'out my work, _bleu_", he scoffed and bright red flushed upon Montparnasse's face. „Be careful", he growled but there was nothing serious with the thread.

The four Thénadiers stuck together heads with the _Patron-Minette, _beginning their planning. „You know you're place, Gueulemer, Babet, Claquesous, 'Zelma. You Montparnasse watch for the law with Éponine, take care." Thénadier turned to his wife. „You turn on the tears, no mistakes my dears."

Multiple nodding, last whispered words, then the group parted and took their positions. Éponine was just about to take her place when she spotted Marius walking through the crowd. A smile spread upon her face, her heard warmed up. Rearward, she heard her mother's mocking. „Just look, these bloody are here on our streets again. Éponine would kiss their feet, for god, that girl never had a scrap of brain!"

Éponine let the hurting words bounce of her, after years and years of teasing she had learned to ignore such comments. She tightened her breath and turned to Marius. „Monsieur!"

„Hey, Éponine, what's up today? I haven't seen you much about."

Hearing his words her heart seemed to burst with luck. He had missed her!

„Here you can always catch me in", she promised nodding yet he only looked concerned. „Mind the police, you shouldn't be caught!"

Éponine laughed confidently. „Wotcher do with all them books? I could've been a student too. Don't judge a girl on how she looks, I know a lot of things, I do!", she assured but she couldn't help but smile hearing his worries.

„Poor Éponine", Marius answered, „The things you know you wouldn't find in books like mine."

She grinned. „I like the way you grow your hair", she smiled saying out loud what she had only hoped to think.

He got it wrong anyways. „I like the way you always tease."

Little he knows and little he sees, Éponine thought to herself. She was just about to reply when she spotted her father giving the wink for the mission, a rich man and his pretty daughter at back sight. She pushed Marius away, her dirty hands leaving stains on his deep blue coat. „Stay out of this."

„But Éponine…"

„You'll be in trouble here, it's not your concern, just stay clear. Please!" She pushed him fiercely.

Marius glance hit the pair which was about to be robbed. „Who is that man?", he asked.

„_Du balai! _I don't know!", responded Éponine, but Marius persisted. „What's a rich man doing out here? Hey, Éponine!"

She tried to shove him away again, only now he stumbled directly into the girl. „I didn't see you there, forgive me."

A smile spread on Marius' face. It was the moment when something broke inside of Éponine. She couldn't tell what was it but she felt it, the sharp edges scratched her inside causing so much pain she felt tears in her eyes. When they fell they left hot stains on her cheeks. That look Marius gave that girl, peacefully and blessed – it was the way he was supposed to look at _her_!

She stood there for a few seconds, unable to move, as frozen as the two young people in front of her. She was just about to go between them, break them up – anything! – when she spotted a policier's black hat. The velvet covered chest was hanged with golden shining awards. It wasn't just any _cogne_.

„It's the police, disappear, run for it, it's Javert!"

Her father's plan bursted when he was forced to leave the rich man.

Just that it wasn't only his father's dream. Èponine's last dream had bursted all along.


	2. II Gavroche

**AN: I found a really helpful map yesterday, showing Paris around 1800. For any interests: map/1800**

**Unfortunately, she'll only met Enjolras next chapter, they just get too long...I think it's always harder reading that way.**

**And again, the dialogue in the beginning is partly copied from 'Eponine's Errand'.**

**Have fun reading and please leave a comment!**

**Greets, Catharina**

**II. Gavroche**

„Éponine? Éponine!"

Only tardy she realised somebody calling her name. Too many thoughts at once were fighting for her attention. She clearly heard the man's whispered words in her mind_."Come, Cosette! Quickly!"_

But could _that_ even be possible? Alouette, here in Paris and that well? Éponine had never wasted another thought to the scrawny, dirty girl, disappearing one night with a man and the doll she had wanted so much. But now Cosette seemed contented, healthy and rich – she felt the torn dress heavy and reproachful hanging on her own body.

Winking she looked up and turned around. Marius was coming towards her. „Éponine!", he gasped again. His breath was heavy. „Who was that girl?"

She squinted to force back the tears and looked at him in nonchalance. „Some bourgeois two-a-penny thing."

„Éponine!" He grasped her arms strongly and she couldn't help but feel her breath quickening, his face that near next to hers. If she leaned forward…

He shook her nearly desperately. „Find her for me!"

She gave a little laugh, more affected than honestly amused. „What will you give me?"

„Anything!"

She smirked. She knew exactly what she would wish – but then she remembered his mission: To go find another girl!

She shrugged her shoulders. „Got you all excited now, God knows what you see in her! All delighted now, right?" Only then she realised he wasn't even listening but rummaging absently in his pockets. „No! I don't want your money, Sir!" she revolted.

He looked at her helplessly. „Éponine, do this for me. Discover where she lives."

She turned away, already going. Of what help was any protest here? But he retained her. „Be careful how you go. And don't let your father know!"

She couldn't resist feeling that ridiculous spark of hope rising. But – „'Ponine, I'm lost until she's found!" He left without another word and disappeared.

Éponine was left alone.

She wandered around in indecision, aimlessly. Why would she take this mission? For Marius' sake, maybe that was reason enough, but what would help winning his favour if he was about to give it to another woman?

Even now she hadn't shed one of the tears blinding her vision. She wasn't paying attention where she was going, she wandered through the streets, lost in thoughts.

„'Ponine!" She cringed. Someone appeared at her side. It was Gavroche, his brownish hair too long and too dirty falling down to his shoulders. He laughed proudly when he noticed her wincing and showed a mouth full of tooth spaces.

„What have 'ey done to you to get ya that scared?" he grinned but it was friendly bantering.

This time she wasn't caught with his humour. She shrugged. „Dunno."

„What'ya doin'?"

„Nothing."

„Well, it doesn't look like nothin'."

She rolled her eyes. As much as his optimistic attitude brightened her up on other days, it annoyed her now. „_Oust!_ Get lost if you need someone to bother."

He actually turned around to leave, but Éponine stopped him immediately. „Wait, Gavroche", she conflicted herself. If there was a nasty task to do for Marius she could at least get someone's help. This way she would at least have pretence to see him. „I'm searching for someone."

Scenting the challenge his little face lit up. For a second he reminded her so strongly of their father, who had thrown his oldest son out early. He had promised Gavroche a better life on his own and sometime she considered whether he had been right.

„An' who do I have to find? You know somebody it's easy to steal from?" He made a thievish gesture.

Éponine shook her head. „No. It's a girl – woman, whatever."

Gavroche looked disappointed. „I don't do _that_." He seemed indignant.

Éponine stopped in their cautious walk along the streets and leaned downwards, face to face with the little boy. „Please. It's important."

„What's with that girl anyway?" He crossed his arms sullenly.

She swallowed hard before answering. „Marius asked me for her."

„The Bourgeois? Well – how much's in for me?" He held out his hand, questioning."I need food too."

„You'll get everything."

Gavroche hesitated for a moment, but seemed satisfied. He knew about Marius' generous pays. „_D'accord_. What'ya know about her?"

Éponine hated every thought about Alouette, but forced herself to remember the details of the short glance she had taken at her. „Her name's Cosette, she's probably with an old man. And she's rich. Blonde, light skin. _Beautiful_." She almost spat the last word.

Gavroche didn't notice anything. Quickly he remembered all the details given. „I will hurry, _ma sœur_. Looking forward to dinner." He gave her a breathy kiss on her cheek and walked down the streets. Éponine's eyes followed him until he turned into an alley and wasn't seen anymore.

The thought of dinner made her feel her hunger again. Lost in her mind she had abandoned the idea of eating for a while but with Gavroche's mention of it the feeling was more present than ever. Again and again she bent in painful cramps.

She felt her inner organs pucker deciding for a robbery. There wasn't any other option and since the attack at the market had failed she would have to look after herself this night.

It wasn't the bad conscience making her feel unwell. She had understood and accepted long ago she had to live on cost of others and didn't feel guilty anymore about that. What other option did she have?

But every robbery came with an uneasy feeling before she hated, moments when there was yet no adrenaline rushing through her veins.

She saw the sun already heading west arriving at _Place de la Bastille_. The round square was framed with the wealthy bourgeoisie's mansions. Sunlit cafés were manned with costly dressed people, drinking their coffee in tiny draughts. The smell of late lunch and freshly baked cake filled the air, watering her mouth with expectation. Across the square the giant elephant statue rose over the crowd and for a second she imagined Gavroche's cry echoing across the place. Inside the statue, inside the hollow cavity, he lived with two other little boys he had picked up from the street someday.

She was grateful for the crowd. The place being as empty as the street artists painted them would have drawn a lot more attention to her.

She pressed through perfumed, sweaty bodies, silk and luxurious wool whenever she touched something. Gladly she would have held her head up high where the air was still fresh, but she kept her view down. With trained eyes she peeked for open coat pockets, listened for jingling change and tried to feel whenever she got the chance for wallets in light summer cloaks.

She felt her heart beating dull when passing a tall man's coat. She heard metal, clinking together and it seemed to smell like the expensive meals served in the restaurants around her.

She didn't hesitate, with the next crush she let her hand slip into his pocket. Her fingers closed around coins, the money felt cool and heavy. She pulled back her arm, unnoticeable and shut her fist tightly around her tiny fortune. She couldn't tell whether the coins were worthy or just with little value, but she was sure it was more she earned on other days.

Her arms pressed to her body she began finding her way from crowd. She turned back sometimes, looking anxiously for the man she had stolen from, but he had disappeared long ago in this sea of colourful hats and tall wigs.

Nevertheless she only lost her tension arriving at _Boulevard Beaumarchais_ where she could use the little alleys. Again, it took her a while to get back to Saint-Michel but it was easier, knowing that dinner was waiting for her.

She came along the street at _Maison Gorbeau_ where she lived with her family. Longingly she glanced at the mansion next to the uncomfortable barrack. Her eyes stopped at the window in the lowest floor, knowing it was the apartment Marius had lived long ago. It seemed so far away since he had moved there from his grandfather's house. It had been the time they had first met, Éponine on a mission for begging for money.

She shook her head to chase away the dark thoughts. For the first time since she had left the _Place de la Bastille_ she allowed herself to look at her prey. Faithless she looked at the silvery coins lying innocently in her palm whereas she knew they could make such a difference in this world.

„Èponine!" She startled and heard the coin's clangour as they hit the pavement. Immediately her father was at her feet, picking up the little pieces.

„_Père_!" she protested but he had already taken most of the money.

„Looks like ya ain't all useless, _chiard_!" he snarred, kneeling on the ground. He laughed roughly.

„I earned that" she said with power and took a step towards him. But she had gone too far. Thénadier stroke out, leaving a burning, red heat spot on her cheek. Éponine raised her hand up to her face to protect it. She didn't refrain when Thénadier got up and moved towards the house.

She was close to crying when she noticed the little coin shining in the evening sun. One lonely sou her father had left on the street, untouched from his dirty fingers. With a small gleam of hope she picked it up.

„You've got your dinner – now where's mine?" Gavroche's brisk voice came from the dark before he stepped into a lantern's glow so Éponine could see him. She was surprised he had found her, hidden a few streets away of her home, sitting on a left carriage, yet on the other side she was sure Gavroche knew every street of Paris better than anybody else.

She smiled at her younger brother coming towards her. From her skirt's pocket she pulled one of the six _brioches_ she had bought and gave it to him. „You'll get the rest when I'm paid." Until now she had maybe refused Marius' money but she was sure she could beg a few coins from him.

Gavroche took the soft little bread with unsure gesture and dug his teeth into it. He seemed surprised with the outraging quality, it was a pastry neither he nor Éponine were used to.

„_Maman_ used to make them with orange blossoms", remembered Éponine watching Gavroche engulfing his _brioche_ hurried like ever. She didn't miss the hopeful look he threw towards her pocket. She sighed and tossed him the last two breads – a novel gesture as she usually kept holding on to her food.

„Now - spit it out! What do you know?" Abruptly she changed the subject and looked at him severely. He raised his hand defensively, chewed and swallowed. „Seriously, you can't always be that impatient." Éponine, caught with his good mood gain, kicked after him. It was astounding, there was no other person in Paris she talked to like to her brother. Their relationship was just so easy – she couldn't remember ever fighting with him.

Gavroche swell bumptious as he climbed next to her onto the carriage. „Looks like we're talking about a Mademoiselle Fauchelevant. 'Think she's 17 or so. And she and her dear _père_…they stick to each other like honey."

„But what else?" Impatiently she struggled her hanging legs.

„They live at _Rue Plumet_, _dieu_, what a house!" He looked at her hopefully. „Will you go to your friend now and get my pay?"

„He' not my friend, Gavroche!", corrected Éponine even though it hurt accepting the sooth. „I'm just his messenger."

„Well, he does call you ‚_Jondrette_'", he replied, his eye brows raised.

She threw her hands towards the night sky. „That doesn't mean anything!" – Did it?

Gavroche shrug his shoulders. „If you say so. He's out of your range anyway." Bluntly he threw the genuine truth at her, making it even more painful. Éponine swallowed hard.

„I'm going to bed", she murmured, got up and walked towards the _Maison_ _Gorbeau_. „Good night, Gavroche."

She cried herself to sleep that night.


	3. III Envie

**AN:**** No reviews until now? o_O ...well, I'm not giving up! ;)**

**About the chapter, I know, the fountain at Place Saint-Michel was only built in the late 19th centuries, yet it fitted in there so good so I decided to just leave the little mistake.**

**And, again, parts of the dialogues are from 'A Heart Full Of Love', 'In My Life' and 'The Attack On Rue Plumet'. **

**Please, please, please leave a review. It would mean so much too me! **

**Greets,**

**Catharina**

**III. Envie - Envy**

The next morning, Gavroche led Éponine to the house at _Rue Plumet_. He had spoken truth with his description. Full of envy she stared at the shallow cremecoloured home with the red roof and the wine covering most of the southern side. It stood in a beautiful rose garden, the blossoms spread their flowery smell even to Éponine and her brother clenching to the black metal curlicue fence's poles.

But when she met Marius that evening she didn't tell him about her findings. She didn't the next day or the one after that. Only Gavroche, urging her to get his pay, finally convinced her to tell him about the address.

He had given her the name of a café at _Place Saint-Michel_. Only that that square was quite the opposite of the city quarter of Saint-Michel. With her head drawn-in she poked along the bourgeoisies until she reached the place Marius had described. The _Boulevard Saint-Michel_ and the _Rue de la Huchette_ merged at the octahedron, the fountain dabbled along, carrying it's swoosh into the cloudy night sky. In the darkness the Palais du Justice and the Cathedral Notre-Dame rose minaiciously tall, only their silhouettes were seen in the dim light coming from the lanterns.

It was neither empty nor crowded, a few couples were making their way in the evening, their arms crossed. Éponine felt a little sting with every sight of them.

She found the café Marius had described easily. It was one of the few lit buildings, through the large windows golden glow fell onto the pavement. Inside, she saw mainly men, young, about Marius' age. He still hadn't told her _exactly_ what he was doing all night, but until now she knew at least he was having serious discussions with other students from the university.

Carefully she took the few steps to the front door and opened it. Heat rolled over her from within, the bar room was filled with laughter and humming of too many voices at a time. She spotted Marius sitting at the counter, sunken into a conversation with a dark-haired man. They were both holding jars of beers, taking a sip from time to time.

Éponine tried to raise his attention. She had already noticed one or another curious looks and would've gratefully avoided crossing the room. But Marius didn't look up.

„Can I help you?" A man's gentle voice made her turn around. She looked into the friendly face of a young student, no more than twenty-five years old. Well, from what Éponine knew, he looked like a student: he wore good clothes, a taupe jacket over a white shirt and a red patterned scarf, dark trousers and black elegant books. Shaken up strawberry blonde hair, observant eyes that studied her from head to toe, making her feel uncomfortable again. He seemed to notice the same second she did and his gaze softened.

„Forgive me, where are my manners? I am Jehan, pleased to make your acquaintance." He reached out for her hand, a gesture she returned stunned and puzzled. Amazed she responded: „Thénadier." It took her a few seconds to realise she was still so stunned she was holding on to his hand all along. „I'm sorry", she stammered, „I have a message for Monsieur Pontmercy."

He nodded. „He's right there." He pointed across the room and immediately Marius rose his head. A genuine smile spread on his face and, waving his hand, he made his way to Éponine and Prouvaire. Her eyes grew larger, her heart started racing.

„I see you've met Jehan already." Marius gave the named one a smirk, then turned to Éponine again. „Did you find her?"

Jehan rolled his eyes. „Get over her, Pontmercy", he sighed, then departed from the two.

Éponine nodded. „Gavroche found out a lot", she said. He was already leaving when she held him back. „And he wants pay."

Marius was too delighted to care and handed her a full franc. „Thank you, Monsieur", she gasped but he just waved at her impatiently. „Come!"

Éponine turned back once more, catching Prouvaire's uncomprehending and the annoyed look from a red coated man, then she rushed after Marius into the darkness.

„I can't describe this feeling, Éponine!", yelled Marius hurrying, almost stumbling over her leading him. „It's like nothing else, I wish you so much you'll have it yourself someday."

Éponine smiled sadly, realising the irony of what he was saying. She nodded. „I hope so too."

„It's just – like something is over but yet something has begun." He was still screaming, causing her to give him a reproachful noise. „Sh!"

„Éponine!" He turned back to her, spinning her around like a child. „You're the friend that has brought me here, thanks to you – _heaven is near_!"

Every word was like a dagger to her. She felt the knife's stabs in her chest, brutally as if they were trying to knock her down to the ground. She walked with shaky knees, hardly keeping up with Marius' speedy tempo.

There had been know one like him ever in her life, these emotions she felt around him weren't comparable to anything else. She was surprised how right his description was – she knew these celestial feelings. Only that – other than Marius – she was sure hers weren't answered.

„We're here", she whispered. Every inch of her body begged her to turn around, to leave him in the dark. _Let him search himself!_, her mind screamed at her.

But she couldn't resist that begging look to go on. „_Rue Plumet_", he read the road sign and just this little name sounded like a lullaby from his mouth. „She's waiting near."

She was waiting _here_! Once again she wondered how he could be so blind. Here she was right in front of him, all he had to do was _ask_!

But he didn't turn around to her. Instead he walked down the road, looking around like trying to catch every detail of the area his loved one lived in.

„What's her name?" he asked, his voice echoing from the house's walls. Éponine opened her mouth to answer when he interrupted her. „No, don't tell, I want to hear it first from her lips. I bet her voice is beautiful."

Éponine had no tears in her eyes. She didn't feel like sobbing or snuggling together to blind out the pain. But pain was the only thing she could feel, accompanied with a cold emptiness spreading even to the farest corners of her body.

And then they arrived at the house. It looked peacefully in the dark. _Fauchelevant_ said the name sign next to the bell to announce one's visit. Marius was reaching out for it when Éponine held him back. „You'll raise her father's attention!", she warned him.

„But what can I do?"

It was then that Éponine spotted her in the darkness. Her golden hair shimmered under the light a patio light threw at it, soft and smooth. She touched her own dirty dark curls, messy as always.

Marius followed her gaze. He gasped when she saw her, grabbing tight to the metal fence. „I found here", he whispered and it was the moment when Éponine realised it was time to back off. Quietly she took a few steps backwards but stayed within earshot in the shadows.

She heard Marius calling for the girl, making snapping noises with his hands to catch her attention. Finally, she looked up and her big eyes widened even more recognising his light up face. She got up, put aside the book she had been reading and moved towards the fence. Her white gown flittered behind her in the soft breeze.

„I found you! It's really you!", Marius said, but then stopped. „Oh God, I'm doing everything wrong! I do not even know your name. Mademoiselle, will you tell?"

The breeze blew over Cosette's gentle voice, whispering but full of wonder. „I can't believe it either", she said. „Is it really…you?"

„My name is Marius Pontmercy."

„And mine's Cosette." She smiled, lowering her eyes shyly.

„Cosette." Marius repeated her name like a precious flower. „I don't know what to say."

She did not answer. She just looked at him, blue eyes flowing over with emotion. The air was filled with breathless silence.

Until Marius inhaled again. „I love you. Forever."

It was the moment Éponine felt herself sink to the ground. Her knees buckled and suddenly the hard pavement was below her.

_The words he would never say to her._ She realised that now, all over again, and the truth came with all its bitterness and pains. She bit her lip to stop them from shaking. _It's over, it's all over_, she told herself again and again yet the words didn't seem to reach her mind.

And then she heard the muttering voices behind her. She leaped to her feet, her hands shivering. The voice grew louder, know she understood what they were saying. „You shut your mouth, give me your hand!" She noticed her father's angry tone and backed off to the wall behind her yet they had spotted her already.

„What have we here?"

„Who is this is hussy?"

„It's your brat Éponine, don't you know your own kid?"

She smelled her father's breath when he took a closer look towards her.

Babet interfered from behind. „Why's she hanging out on here?"

Her father nodded. „'Ponine, get on home! You're not needed in this, were enough here without you."

„What are you planning?", she answered, throwing worried looks between the _Patron-Minettes_ and Thénadier.

Her father nodded towards the house. „Let's say we've got a debt to pay." She heard Claquesou's dirty laughter from behind.

She stood still in shock. Marius was there – if they hurt him….

„I know this house, I tell you! There's nothing here for you. Just the old man and the girl, the live ordinary lives!" She held her father's shoulders, trying to convince him to cancel the attack.

„Don't interfere!" Here pushed her against the wall. „Take care, young Miss, you've got a lot to say!" He was close to hitting her again, but Montparnasse held back his fist. „She's going soft, happens to us all." He leaned closer to Éponine, locking her up between his and her father's body. „Go home, 'Ponine, you're in the way!"

She pushed them off, using all of her strength. „I'm gonna scream, I'm gonna warn them", she threatened, looking for Marius, but he was gone. Instead, the garden gate was wide open. He must've gone inside.

„One scream…" Thénadier didn't finish his sentence, Éponine had already cried out, sharp and loud.

Her head flew to the side, receiving her father's slap and she tasted blood. She spat out.

„Leave her to me, hide in the sewers!", he ordered the _Patron-Minette_, Éponine however was hit again, this time her other face side being hurt. „You'll rue this night, I'll make you scream!" She winced.

A torch lit up the street and Marius returned. Within seconds Thénadier had let go of Éponine and disappeared in the night.

Marius hugged her gratefully sighing. „You saved me once again, sent them away with your cry and brought me to my beloved Cosette." He looked around cautiously. „Let's get going, they are still near." And he pulled her away.

They said goodbye at _Place Saint-Michel_ and it was then when the night's events really hit Éponine. She watched Marius leave until the darkness swallowed his body.

She was afraid of heading home, she didn't doubt her father meant his threats. She knew for sure there was only one place she could go now and the thought of her secret spot at the river bank comforted her a little. Yet it was not enough to push back the tears one last time. While walking she felt her eyes flooding over, teardrops running over her cheeks, wetting her face. She made no sound but she cried all along. When she arrived at the river she felt weak and empty.

She crossed the private garden, where the apples were starting to ripe, and pulled back the hedge.

A little scream slipped her throat.

Facing her his back, a man was sitting at the shore, just like Éponine always did, his feet dangling in the air.

He turned around when he felt the branches pushed aside.

She couldn't see his face yet the mane of locks were curling around his head in the light coming from the side across, almost like a halo. She believed he was as stunned as she was.

„_Éxcuse-moi_", she whispered and was about to pull back when he answered.

„I forgive you, Mademoiselle." His voice was strong and powerful but also careful and cautious. „Maybe I have to apologize myself. Is this your place?"

She nodded, caught with an uneasy feeling. „I'm used to come here all the time", she explained. She began chewing on her nails.

He began to rise. „I found it today when I dropped my books." He pointed at a pile of volumes he picked up next. „It's yours again. Have a good night." He nodded slightly and headed to leave.

Éponine realised she couldn't be left again this night, not even by a stranger. „You can stay if you like", she called after him and he turned around, puzzled.

„I…I don't think that's a good idea", he stuttered. He made another attempt to go, but Éponine went after him.

„I insist upon it", she demanded and now they had moved as far as to the next lantern. Light fell in her face and recognition crossed his face. When his breath passed her she felt coolness were the tears had left their stains, suddenly embarrassed she brushed them away.

„I've seen your face", he realised. „You were the girl picking Pontmercy up today."

She looked at him awkwardly. „Are you a friend of him?", she asked only noticing a second too late she was being rude.

He stood straight. „I wouldn't say so."

She kept her view at her bare feet, not daring to look at him. „But you know him."

He made an agreeing sound. „We…meet. From time to time."

„And what do you do?" _Merde_, she thought. She had been impolite again.

He exhaled loudly. „It's complicated."

Éponine forced herself to smile and look up. „You could tell me. I understand a lot of things."

He shook his head. „I should go home."

„Please." Éponine looked at him petitionary.

She watched him struggle with himself, finally he sighed, giving in. „Maybe a few minutes", he agreed and they walked back. They sat next to each other at the small place, as far from each other as possible.

„I'm sorry", Éponine said suspiring. „I'm usually not like this." She pointed at herself.

He didn't answer, but an unspoken _Like what?_ Was hanging between them.

„Desperate", she added.

He nodded silently, his hand resting on his books.

Now, with the moon coming out from the clouds, she risked a gaze at his face. He seemed familiar to her, too. But she couldn't remember. Only when the pale moon light showed his jacket's burning colour, she remembered. „I saw you at the café today", she burst out. Nodding.

„You're not much of a talker, aren't you?" She couldn't help but being honest and direct.

This time, he shook his head. „I told you it wasn't a good idea."Again, he rose to leave.

„Well, then, tell me about what you are doing."

He closed his eyes in annoyance but sat back eventually. „I study law."

„Is that hard?"

„Yes." A swift smirk appeared on his until now unmoved face.

Awkward silence followed. Éponine began feeling uncomfortable again. „I'm Éponine", she said, trying to find a subject to talk about.

„Enjolras."

„Is that your first name?"

„No."

„So what's your first name then?"

„Do you always ask that many questions?"

She silenced. She didn't know herself where that sudden flood of words came from. She was only used to talk that much to Gavroche and on some days maybe to Marius, but apart from these two she usually kept her conversations short.

She moved her legs slightly and bent down over them to look down at the river. It was even slimmer now but the clouds above her promised rain. Soon the city would liven up again. The heat had made everyone tired and slow.

„Monsieur...", she began again, this time more carefully. „Has Marius been talking about me?"

She could see him raising his eyebrows. „He did talk a lot the last few days about some girl he met. He's being ridiculous."

„And what did he say?" Éponine knew deep inside her already, Cosette was the girl Marius had been adoring these past days yet she had to try that little chance left.

„I didn't listen, Mademoiselle", Enjolras replied with sharp voice. „This is not the kind of talk I listen to."

Éponine felt her heart sink in disappointment. „What do you listen to then?"

Again, she had crossed the border. Enjolras got up, brushed the dirt of his trousers and picked up his books. „I should go to rest. It was…nice talking to you." Without another glance he turned around and left her behind, alone again with her thoughts.


	4. IV Curiosity

**AN:**** So, here's Chapter 4 and things are finally starting to run smoothly. You'll see what I mean. More ExE scenes are coming in the following chapters, here's only a little bit.**

**Please, please, please, guys...what do you think about the story? Thanks a lot to avengedchocolateangel, but what about CarolineWrites, yellow111 or mizunodreamer? **

**Anyway, enjoy!**

**Greets, Catharina**

**IV. Curiosity**  
Éponine avoided Marius the next days. A week had passed since his meeting with Cosette and still Éponine couldn't ban the hurting pictures from her mind. They seemed to be there all the time, mocking her with her loss, showing what she was in comparison to Alouette.

It was not like Marius didn't try to contact her. He had been busy, but still he bothered to find at least little amounts of time to visit Éponine. He remembered her promise to always find her at the market yet she was nowhere to be seen these days. Just when he started to really worry, Gavroche popped in at the café Musain at Place Saint-Michel. He was talking to Combeferre, waering a serious look that didn't fit his young face. When he rushed outside again, Marius held him back.  
„Gavroche!" The boy looked up, his eyes wide open.  
„I haven't stolen anything, M'sieur." He shrugged boldly.  
„No, I hope you haven't." Marius uttered a brief laugh. „Could you tell 'Ponine to come here? It's important. I've got a message for her."  
„I can take it. If you pay me, of course." Gavroche held out his hand with an innocent grin.  
Marius shook his head. „I prefer to know the letter is in safe hands."  
„It is with me."  
Marius laughed. „Just tell her. Please." He ruffled his hair, but Gavroche moved away, offended. „I have to get back to work."

Once again Éponine wandered around the streets. The weather was cooler now but she didn't feel the fading warmth.  
Her fingers were clenched to her skirt, right beneath her waste. Through the rough linen she felt something hard yet familiar. Unseen to everybody, a silver bracelet was sewn into the fabric, a work which had cost her more than one meal and an awful lot of needle stitches in her fingertips. The little pendant, a solid cross, would've guaranteed her many days without worry about hunger, even if it hadn't been solid silver, which she was not sure of. But for some reason she couldn't part from the trinket she had found near Marius' new home one day. It just gave her an unexplained feeling of certainty, made her believe that maybe somewhere up there was a God, holding his hands over her and her beloved ones, trying to find a way to make her happy someday.  
Just that this moment she couldn't see God anywhere. Where was He, the Almighty? Was this part of his big plan? Why was she chosen to suffer that much?  
From the opposite end of the street she heard children's laughter, the loud, bossy voice her brother used to talk in when he commanded the two little boys he was living with in the giant elephant statue at Place de la Bastille. For a second, a brief smile crossed her face.  
Soon he spotted her too. „Éponine!" He ran towards her, his two boys trying to keep up with him. They were around five and eight years old, too young to understand what their life was like and why it was that way. „You should go and see Marius at the café. He's got a letter for you. To deliver", he added hastily when she raised one eyebrow.  
Her heart sank again. „You saw him?"  
Gavroche nodded. „You really better go. It's been like, three days since he asked me."  
„Gavroche!", she gasped dispraising but he didn't really seem bothered. „See you, sœur", he greeted and continued his way.  
Éponine stood there, struggling with herself. Did she really want to see him? Was she ready? Yet on the other hand she felt her heart yearning for him. Finally, she turned around and headed for Place Saint-Michel.  
It was early afternoon. When she arrived at the café it seemed empty, this time no laughing men were seen through the windows. She frowned in confusion, but finally stepped up towards the door and entered.  
She had been right, that early nobody was seen here drinking. Only a chubby waitress was working behind the bar, cleaning glasses and wiping the counter.  
„Can I help you?" She threw Éponine a suspicious look.  
„I'm looking for Monsieur Pontmercy. He's always here."  
She shook her head with no sorrow. „Sorry, can't let you go there."  
„He's here?"  
She suddenly looked like having said something she hadn't been supposed to. Éponine made five large steps to cross the room and leaned towards her. „Where is he?" she asked again, a serious look upon her face.  
„I can't tell."  
„Well, then I guess I'll have to find him myself." She rushed off, ignoring the protesting calls in her back. She heard the waitress coming after her and walked the only possible way – a corridor leading away from the main room. Torches lit the windowless hallway, emblazing a few doors.  
She followed her senses. Loud voices were coming from one of them, it took her a few attempts to find the right one. Once she ended up suddenly outside the café, facing a completely different road.  
All heads turned towards her when she obviously swung open the right door. A squared room was filled with young students, all of them turned towards the middle of the row, where, standing on a table, a man had been interrupted in his speech. His fist was still raised in a victorious gesture. It was Enjolras and both his and Éponine's eyes widened when the recognised each other.  
„'Ponine!" Marius was the first one to break the silence. „You came!"  
Immediately, conversations began again when the interruption turned out to be uninteresting.  
„You have to deliver this to Cosette", Marius said, producing a folded piece of paper from his jacket. "Her father is worried about the attack. This should calm him, but Cosette has to..."  
„What is she doing here?" Enjolras cut Marius off, his face angry and worried. „Didn't Chantal keep her out?" She must've been the waitress.  
„She did, sort of", answered Éponine in Marius' place and Enjolras rolled his eyes in annoyance. „We can't afford to let anyone in here", he explained but then went back to the others.  
„He doesn't like being interrupted", Marius chuckled when Enjolras was out of earshot, but then got serious again. „Don't lose the letter, you hear me? You're the best for doing this." He handed her the writing and she nodded fiercely.

Éponine did deliver the letter but before handing it into the hands of Cosette, her eyes kept down at her feet at all times, she opened it. She knew she was wrong, but there it was in her hands and nobody around to stop her. Carefully she opened the unsealed paper. In the dimming daytime it was hard to make out each letter but with the glooming light of a lantern every word hurt even more. Only when blotches the size of her thumb nails appeared on the white paper, turning it brownish, she realised she was crying. Angry with herself, she brushed them away and made, as quickly as possible, her way to the house at Rue Plumet.

She headed back to the café Musain. She was usually not an eavesdropper but inside her was suddenly a desperate urge to find out what Marius was doing in there all day long. Enjolras anxious reaction to her interfering – she was curious for the reasons behind that fear.  
And suddenly she was grateful for the back entrance she had discovered earlier the evening. When she entered she kept still for a few seconds, listening for any sign of Chantal's afreshing anger but only half-drunken voices and laughter was heard from the bar room.  
And then she crawled towards the door she had discovered Marius and his friends behind earlier. Her head pressed to the carvings-decorated wood, she tried making out the voices from inside. There was only one man to be heard, his power and passion filling each corner of the room. She could feel the vibe of his exertion until the corridor. A shiver ran across her skin but when she had accustomed to the thrilling voice she began listening to the words. She held her breath.  
"People talk about justice every day. The say 'life isn't fair'. And they are right. But what they don't know, is that this is our, the society's, fault. We could change that.  
"Everybody deserves a life worth living. Just before the doors of this café, below the houses we live in, a corner away from the streets we walk, people are fighting for their lives day after day, some are starving to their deaths. So – why can't everybody have enough food to live? Because the rich bourgeoisies, the ones even atop of us take more than they need, enjoy and waste."

Éponine returned the next time Marius went. Again, she listened to the voice of the passionate stranger through the door, always looking out for Chantal, the waitress, to find her.  
"Liberty. Liberté. Just taste that word for a moment. It means so much. And it changes everything.  
"But it's not reachable for every citizen of France. Some have too much of it and some don't have any.  
"Yet everybody should have. This nation should be able to make its own decision and the key to it is called democracy. Where is the king who rules this land? For what do we need him? His decisions don't make any good!"

Her visits heaped up. The time began when she spent every evening at the café, maybe even knowing there wasn't a meeting. Then she would just sit there and wait for the students to arrive, to listen to their heated conversations and – most of all – hear the speeches of the one who filled the air with enthusiasm and passion for France. This country needs more men like him, she thought to herself and wondered more than once whom of the students it was talking so fiercely. Deep inside her she hoped of course for Marius to be the orator, but she was sure his gentle voice could never sound so strong and willing. But who else then? She excluded Jehan as well, even though she had only seen him for so short time, she was sure he was calmer type of man too. She guessed it was Enjolras, but the thought of him being the one she admired was just...too abstract. He was rude – and obviously had shown her he wasn't that much of a speaker.  
Weeks passed and Éponine learned their plans. She knew when a meeting ended and when it was time for her to leave. She also discovered the evenings the speaker was in the mood for talk and the ones where he'd let his fellowmen discuss the issues in France.  
But she also learned about politics. It had never been a subject of her particular interest but seeing the points the speaker mentioned made her think. He seemed right, what he said was true.  
Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité was his device and he supported it with whatever possible.  
He wanted freedom for every citizen in France, even for the ones like Éponine, the gamines. Maybe that was the reason she secretly began admiring him, his interest in her destiny, but she remembered herself she knew nothing about him but his voice and she was sure he never spoke in public like this – especially not using the words he did in this secret room.  
He wanted equality for every citizen in France. He believed everybody had the right to publish their opinion and to have a voice in deciding over the kingdom's future. No differences at court or the police, he wanted a government treating everybody with the same laws and rules.  
And he wanted them all to join together to achieve these aims. He trusted in the strength of the nation, truly confided in everybody making up a nation on their own, a free state.  
Democracy. And even though Éponine didn't know the words meaning it filled her with a pleasant feeling of hope and trust.  
The evenings she hid in the café Musain where the ones taking her from the crucial world that was her reality. Marius, her father, hunger – all these things seemed unimportant surrounded by that passionate voice and the vibe of a better future. Sometimes she even imagined the corridor to the back room as her second home, one where she was welcomed and loved.  
But when the evening ended she stumbled with even more powerful torture into the dark streets of Paris, watching Marius taking off for Rue Plumet, leaving her behind without a notice. She wouldn't return to the place at the river's bank, a sudden feeling of vulnerability and nakedness hang around this spot which she couldn't bear.

It turned colder as September came and passed and October began. The small trees in the bourgeoisies' gardens turned orange and brown and let their leaves fall where they danced in the wind across the pavement. The streets grew silent, the lust of life vanished along the late-lasting days and the warm climate. With winter slowly approaching, worries appeared in the nation's minds and every household began filling up their stockings busily.  
Éponine was cold often. Only sometimes she would return to the barrack at Maison Gorbeau and until now her father had been greedy and wouldn't allow her to wear her precious boots. So she was still bare feet, walking around the algid streets. With every day getting chillier, she finally stole a cloak, thin and of a brownish, pale colour, but it helped surviving the freezing nights better which she now spent with Gavroche and his two little boys at Place de la Bastille.  
It was only a question of time until the first illness hit her. It started with a harmless cold, but already few days afterwards, fever began heating up her body and heavy coughs would shake her body whenever appearing.

Yet Éponine didn't quit eavesdropping at the meetings. She was afraid of missing something, especially now that the plans were starting to arise.  
She sat there, shivering in the middle of October, leaned towards the door of the back room. The hot days in summer demanded their price.  
There was only low muttering coming from the inside today. Éponine was tired from a long night and her head fitted so well into the corner of door and wall. She slowly drifted away, floating between vigil and sleep.  
And then a cough appeared in the back of her throat. It was a vicious tickle, torturing and crucial. Her whole body cramped. Holding her torso she tried to force the feeling back.  
And then she couldn't hold it any longer. The sound echoed back from the corridor's bare walls, increasing its volume.  
Immediately the voices opposite of the door hushed, a deadly and sentencing silence. She held her breath and before she could chose to run, the door flew open, only seconds later.  
Icy blue hit warm chocolate brown when Éponine stared into Enjolras' cold eyes. They widened when he recognised her and instantly anger and furiousness crossed his face. He held his gaze, piercing and sharp, then, without taking his eyes from her frozen body, called into the back room.  
"Pontmercy. There's someone here for you." His voice was full of reproach and rage.  
"No, no...I – I don't want to..", Éponine stuttered, feeling every pair of eyes in the room on herself. He cheeks began burning as her face reddened.  
"Take her", Enjolras ordered coldly and more violently than gently she was pulled into the room and forced to sit on a chair. Enjolras bent over the table in front of her, his face too close to hers.  
"How long have you been listening?" he asked, quietly but the threat was hanging heavily in the following silence. Éponine couldn't answer, a shiver run down her back.  
"How long?!" She winced with Enjolras' outbursting scream. She sat there, crawled together, unable to move from fear. She felt worse than on the streets, here with nowhere to hide and no Patron-Minette to save her from the attack.  
Enjolras came closer and her breath stopped. She could feel her heart beating fast and heard, making her fingers shiver but filling her body with heat.  
"Please, Monsieur..." she finally managed to whimper but stopped with a fire look of his.  
"How long?" he repeated a last time, without a sigh of mercy.  
"Just today...it was..."  
"You're lying." His voice cut like knives, his eyes seemed to look right through her skin into her body, examining every little detail.  
"Since I've been to the back room first", Éponine finally whispered when she couldn't bear his stare any longer and let her eyes sink into her lap.  
Enjolras threw his hands into the air, an annoyed and angry but also helpless gesture. "And now?"  
Somebody stepped in from behind. It was Jehan. "Let her speak." He acknowledged Éponine's grateful look with a nod and raised a question towards her: "Did you tell anyone about what we talked about?"  
She shook her hand and this time no one doubted her truthful answer.  
She tried to counter the student's enquiring looks but every time her gaze wandered back to the floor. She knew what she wanted to say yet the words didn't come across her lips. A wish had been there all the time yet she had been too afraid to knock at the door and express it.  
"I want to join your group", she busted out. Frozen silence followed, heavy with question and uncertainty. Only her own silence was begging and desperate.  
She looked at every one of the students, now all of them having their eyes at their feet. Who was the speaker? Éponine hoped to discover him by his looks but the only one with leadership potential – her gaze stayed at Enjolras bright red coat. But she just didn't want to believe that passionate voice could speak with so much rage and antipathy.  
"Enjolras..." Somebody in the crowd raised his voice but was rudely interrupted with a "No!" from their leader.  
Enjolras turned back to the one who had spoken, piercing him with his steel blue eyes. "How? How are we supposed to trust someone who was eavesdropping on us all the time?"  
"She never did any wrong." Infected with sudden support of Éponine another student voiced his opinion. "Who knows where she comes from?"  
"No!" Enjolras began screaming again.  
Finally, Marius stepped forward, a shameful look in his beautiful eyes. "Enjolras", he began. "Give her a chance. She knows a lot of things."  
"I believe you. It's just that I can't trust her. Who will she tell? What will she do? And lastly – where will she stand when things get serious?"  
Marius chuckled. "Enjolras, things are already serious. She hasn't told until now, why should she as a part of the union? And why should she listen all that time if she isn't really interested?"  
Éponine felt warmness rushing through her hearing his words. She felt triumph slowly approaching.  
Enjolras was just about to complain again, when Jehan gently touched his shoulders. "Enjolras. You are here, talking about justice and equality day by day. You have to let her join. She deserves it and it is your chance to show you mean what you say. Who cares whether she's a woman or from the streets? She's a citizen like everyone else and she has a right to join! Keep your promises."  
And with that, Enjolras' resistance was broken. His shoulders sank with a deep sigh as he realised Jehan's right and he muttered a disgruntled and quiet "Fine."  
Éponine jumped up, squeaking with happiness. Too many emotions were floating over her at the moment and without hesitating she embraced the student standing right next to her fiercely. He looked stunned but also surprised and when she backed off, her face flushing, he smiled genuine.  
Éponine let her glance sweep around the room, examining every face with immense interest. Some wore a smile, some were serious and then there was one face not turned towards her. Enjolras head was bent over a table, sunken into another work, not caring about what was happening around him.  
Éponine couldn't bother that moment. She was too happy, too glad and too blessed to think about anything negative. Her peaceful smile didn't fade until she left in the late evening hours and for the first time since years she felt like she had found another home.


End file.
